


Turn the Looking Glass Upside Down

by Cosmic_Biscuit



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Ambiguous Relationships, Hallucinations, Mind Screw, Multi, Other, Psychological Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-22
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 20:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmic_Biscuit/pseuds/Cosmic_Biscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bits of broken memories like bits of glass are constantly falling through his mind. Everything is normal, but it's all wrong, and he can't trust his visions enough to tell him why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn the Looking Glass Upside Down

“I’d like you to meet your new hero partner, Barnaby. Say hello to Wild Tiger.”

For a long minute, it feels as though he has been punched in the stomach. Standing before him is an armor that has haunted his feverish hallucinations ever since he was a small child; black and glowing and ominous. The helmet’s plate opens, and he’s staring at a face he’s seen both on television and in his uncomfortable fits of dreams.

Except the eyes are _red_.

They shouldn’t be _red._

His hands clench at his sides before he recovers his composure, and he subtly moves away from his guardian before a hand can settle at his back. “Ah- I thought- I thought he’d retired this season,” he says, barely able to cover the tremor in his voice.

Maverick looks displeased about something -an expression Barnaby has long grown used to and wary of all at once- but thankfully makes no effort to move closer. “He did indeed. However, since we still retain all the rights related to the Wild Tiger image despite his leaving, we’ll be passing it along to use in our test run for augmenting the hero corps with robotic assistance. Rather like bomb squads and their rovers.”

The smile makes him uneasy, as does the way Tiger keeps staring at him blankly, but he forces a nod despite all of his fear-honed instincts telling him something is very wrong about this. Dull eyes suddenly flicker to glowing life after Saito does something or another, and Tiger blinks at him. “Hello. Are you Barnaby?” a voice that is familiar and not asks him, somewhere between mechanical and pleasant, and Barnaby forces back the lump in his throat.

"Yes. Yes, I’m your partner.”

=

_Tiger isn’t real._

Underneath the armor that goes out with him on missions day in and day out is a doll created of circuits and servos and metal paneling stolen from and expanded off his parents’ work. He’s not sure how he knows it’s his parents’ - one of the many things about them that haunt him - he just knows it’s the truth. Inside the skull are complicated formulae and programming notes designed to create a parrot hero who knows how to respond to the cameras and the questions, just as he does.

They’re a lot alike in that regard, he thinks sometimes.

Tiger has programmers and mechanics who tell him what to do and how he should keep his motors running, and Barnaby has psychiatrists who tell him his strange visions are all in his mind and give him pills to make them hurt a little less.

But those facts are also hard to remember on occasion, drowned under half-dreamed visions and broken memories of laughter and stupid jokes and a nickname that he thinks he hated… if it was ever actually given to him at all. And even harder when Tiger sometimes responds in manners that are more appropriate to those dreams.

“Those circles are getting too dark for makeup. You should be getting more sleep,” the android admonishes him with an almost authentically concerned air one morning as he returns from pushing himself too hard in the gym once more, and he blinks at his partner’s inexpressive face for a second before shaking his head and brushing off the comment. Programming. Programming and nothing more, no matter how much he wishes it were different.

=

Tiger proves to be correct.

It was just one little misstep, brought on by tiredness. He hadn’t paid enough attention to his surroundings, hadn’t thought to inspect his cup better before drinking the tea. He has always been afraid of accepting food from his guardian -he never knows _why_ , exactly, he just is- but he hadn’t paid attention this one time. A sick feeling, a dizziness, a paralysis of the limbs, and he’s trapped on the floor, trapped under those hated glowing blue eyes that he sees in his nightmares and a hand reaching for his head, to steal something - _what_ from him, he doesn’t know.

And then Tiger is standing between them, shielding him, staring the old man down. He can’t make out what they’re saying through the drugged chaos in his head, but Maverick is clearly angry about something and unable to stop Tiger though he tries with some little mechanical device, and the old man continues to glare at them as Tiger picks him up with all the gentleness of a parent carrying a child and takes him home.

The next morning, as he groggily wakes just before dawn, he wonders if it was all another fever dream. If he’d just expected Tiger to be there because someone else with the same face had maybe once promised to protect him in his hallucinations. But when he puts his glasses on, red eyes are regarding him from a corner, watching over him like a hawk, and for the first time in years, he feels strangely comforted to find someone in his room with him. “Tiger?”

The android approaches and puts a hydrolic-powered hand that can and has crushed brick with ease on his hair. The touch is gentle, as though trying to soothe him, and for the briefest moment, he sees golden brown eyes instead of red. Just another strange vision, he decides, and he pushes it to the back of his mind as he gently pushes Tiger away so he can get up.

The robot trails after him to the kitchen and continues to watch him as he makes a meager breakfast. When he sways on his feet a little -still sick from the drugged tea, he tells himself - hands steady him with surprising care. As he putters about the apartment, trying to get ready, he finds himself watching the android as much as Tiger watches him. When they leave, despite Tiger telling him he should call in, they go to Apollon as usual, but he doesn’t go to Saito to find out what’s going on. Though the remaining logical shreds of his mind keep telling him the opposite, part of him wants to believe the incidents of last night and this morning mean that the android has truly begun learning human behavior, is becoming more affectionate; maybe even has grown _fond_ of him. He is afraid to find out otherwise; that his mental admonishments are correct and this is nothing but a change in programming codes.

It sends another wash of pain through his head, the realization that he _needs_ Tiger to like him, because there's no one else he can trust, either because his visions have made him afraid _of_ them or afraid _for_ them.

There is a crush of reporters and interviewers that ambush them almost as soon as they enter the lobby, and the surprise flashes are blinding and make him disoriented. He can’t remember why they’re there… or maybe something has happened, given the way Tiger protectively shields him from shouted questions and guides him through the crowd.

In the corner of his eye, though, he sees a pair talking to Rock Bison near the receptionist's desk, and he feels his heart begin pounding nervously and his head start spinning when he gets a glimpse of their faces. The man gives him and Tiger a sour scowl, and that makes it worse, but when the woman elbows him lightly and admonishes him to be polite, Barnaby thinks he might be sick at all the images that come crashing into his brain from getting a good look at her.

Tiger notices and tightens his hold when his legs buckle, keeping him on his feet. The android looks up and sees where his gaze has gone, and returns the former hero’s glare. “Should I tell them to get lost, too?”

“N- no,” Barnaby manages to mumble weakly, struggling to hold down the urge to throw up. “It’s fine… we’re already late as it is.”

As subtly as he can, he clenches his fingers in his partner’s shirt to ground himself, and lets the robot gently push him into the elevator. The doors close, saving him from prying eyes and cameras, but the sick feeling doesn’t go away. Taking off his glasses, he rubs his eyes, but Tiger’s still look strangely brown when he puts them back on.

“You look pale. Just take it easy when we get to the office.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, resting his head on his partner’s shoulder. Arms encircle him in an unexpected light embrace, a broad hand begins to rub his back gently, and he suddenly finds himself fighting tears as the storm surges up in his mind once more.

_-Five seconds, hero! Only one life to choose! Only one past road to change! C’mon, decide, who gets their future?-_

He’ll take another dose of his medications when he gets to his desk. They won't make the storm stop, but at least the headache will fade.

_-Tomoe Kaburagi.-_

And maybe he’ll ask Tiger to go home with him again when their shift is over, because he doesn’t think he can stand being alone in the apartment after today. Something about that woman's face won't stop nagging at him, and he knows he'll be facing more nightmares tonight.

_-I can’t make him happy, but I can at least bring back the one who did. I choose Tomoe Kaburagi.-_


End file.
